


March Hare

by starsfalldown



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: District 13, F/M, Finn/Annie, Friendship, Gen, Hospital, Minor OFC - Freeform, Odesta, rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsfalldown/pseuds/starsfalldown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Keep your mind busy," they say. "Find something that keeps you sane." So I find something to focus on, I tie knots and unravel them over and over again. If only things were that simple, if only things made sense like this does. Tie a knot, untie it. Repeat it until anything means something again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	March Hare

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first whacks at an all-canon. As a matter o' fact, it may actually be my first. This is a snapshot into Finnick's life as he's trapped in the hospital in 13.
> 
> Thanks to my dad for taking time away from the Golf Channel to proofread this little oneshot!
> 
> Originally posted on ff.net under one of my two accounts.

**March Hare**

* * *

"Annie," is the only thing the man has said in the past seventy-two hours. His state has been alternating between near catatonic and a stage of utter insanity. He screams, cries, thrashes about, ties knots with that  _damned_ length of rope and says the samename over, and over, and over again.

The young man, handsome at a not-so-long-ago point in his life, lies awake and stares at the ceiling, mumbling and tying all day. He ties knots in that rope until his hands bleed from rope burn. Even then he pauses only long enough to whisper her name before once again taking the rope in his hands. His sea green eyes stare hard at the object as he unties the product of his madness.

Square knots, slip knots, dropper loops, cow hitches; whatever knots his hands had decided to make come undone even more rapidly than they were created. The man's bloody hands run along the braided surface of the beige rope. His inability to settle on a place to begin is just enough to allow her to occupy his mind.

He mouths her name before throwing the rope down. He pulls on his hair and cries out her name over, and over, and over, and over- until the District 13 doctors enter the room armed with sedatives. This routine is nothing out of the ordinary for him.

Even so, sedation is out of the question, at least at the moment. He  _needs_ to tie those knots, he  _needs_ to stay awake and hope, just  _hope_ she's still alive. The old drunk promised him that there would be a rescue team sent within the week, and that was enough to make up the fisherman's mind. Stay awake. Always, always, always stay awake.

When a pretty young nurse brings the needle close to the crazed victor's arm, he loudly professes his protest and gently but firmly pushes her arm away.  _At least he thinks he was gentle._

The nurse, with her golden mane a regular sight for the man from the fishing District, gazes at him knowingly and with a sense of familiarity. Perhaps unconsciously, she turns her gaze to the rope in his lap and it's like a light switch has been turned on in her brain. In one swift movement, the hand that had intended to deliver the sedative delivers to him his lifeline. For a moment, he feels a sense of camaraderie with this woman.

Instantly, his hands begin to form a Bimini twist knot.

The young nurse with the golden hair says something to the other nurses and doctors that he doesn't quite hear, but how he wished he did! The words from her mouth somehow got the medical staff to leave the room.

Out of his peripheral vision, he sees the Golden One trail behind the others. He almost turns his head to watch her leave, to attempt a farewell to this surprise companion, but she beats him to it with her own peculiar benediction.

The Golden One pauses at the door, and in a musical voice too sweet for this hellhole of a District says, "You're mad as a March hare, Finnick Odair. Completely bonkers. Yet, you're even braver than the Mockingjay herself."

With that, she closes the door.

His rope burn raw hands return to the rope.

Cross over, wrap around, cross over, wrap around, pull. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Untie. Moment of invasion.

"Annie,"

Repeat.


End file.
